


All I Loved, I Loved Alone

by Writcraft



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Infidelity, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-05 07:07:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writcraft/pseuds/Writcraft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco comes back into Pansy’s life and she wishes she was strong enough to tell him to leave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I Loved, I Loved Alone

Pansy looked into the oval mirror on her vanity table and brushed a little powder over her nose. She tilted her head to the side to be sure her blusher was distributed finely and evenly enough to look natural. She finished with a firm stripe of red lipstick along her lips, dabbing them with tissue paper.

When the doorbell rang from the street below, Pansy stood and looked at herself once more in the mirror. When she was satisfied, she opened the door to Draco by pressing a buzzer to unlock the door to the main building and leaving the door to her flat slightly ajar. She moved into the living room before her guest arrived, keen to avoid awkward platitudes in the hallway or – god forbid – air kissing and casual conversation about the weather or the Muggle transport system.

“This is where you ended up? I like it.” Pansy heard Draco before she saw him and assumed from the rustle in the hall that Draco had shrugged out of his jacket. 

She heard the door shut and closed her eyes for a moment as she imagined what Draco might have been wearing as an overcoat – camel or thick, grey wool – most likely with a scarf to take off some of the chill of the early spring. She imagined how he would place it neatly so the expensive material wouldn’t crease, as she had watched him do so many times before. If he wore gloves, he would remove them slowly, finger by finger and back again, putting them into the left pocket of his coat. They would be deep brown leather and almost new because Draco replaced his gloves every year, at Christmas. 

“You have hardly seen anything of the place, other than the door and the street outside.”

“Still, I like what I have seen so far.” Draco’s voice sounded almost loud in the still room, familiar enough to tug at her heart yet strange to her ears after the time which had stretched out between them. 

Pansy turned and saw Draco had already begun to look around properly. She watched as he took in the oil paintings in their gold-gilded frames, the light, wide stripes on the walls and the expensive furnishings in cream and pistachio. She watched his gaze settle on her arrangement of roses, each carefully placed in a delicate round bowl which looked as undisturbed and untouchable as the rest of the décor.

“It is hardly a home.” It had not escaped Pansy’s notice that Draco had looked at everything in the room but her. “Your wife didn’t wish to accompany you on your trip?”

“I wasn’t aware my _wife_ was invited.” Draco glanced up then and moved closer to Pansy. “Perhaps I was mistaken?”

Pansy felt Draco’s fingers brush along her arm. She had worn a delicate blouse in sheer black, with a camisole beneath it to protect at least some of her modesty. The material was thin enough that she could feel the cool touch of Draco’s hands against her skin. She wondered if perhaps Astoria hadn’t thought to buy him gloves for Christmas. Perhaps it was not a tradition for Draco and Astoria as it had been for Pansy.

“I assume she is in New York with you? Otherwise we might have met elsewhere.”

“Indeed.” Draco turned from Pansy to look out of the window, down onto the road below. “She prefers to travel with me when I go away on business.”

“I wonder why that might be.” Pansy tried to keep the tight edge from her voice but as Draco’s shoulders stiffened she couldn’t be certain that she had managed it.

“That is unfair.”

“Is it?” Pansy sighed and moved behind Draco. “I don’t wish to fight with you. It is a little strange seeing you here after all of this time.”

“It feels strange for me too.” Draco turned and arched an eyebrow at Pansy, his expression cool. “I gather you have heard rumours?”

“One hears these things. There may be an ocean between us, but news travels across continents rather quickly in certain circles.” Pansy held Draco’s gaze and kept her own face expressionless.

“It has not been a terribly happy marriage.” Draco grimaced and turned his gaze away. Pansy clenched her hand into a tight fist to stop herself from reaching for him as she watched Draco’s cheeks flush with light pink spots which his pale skin could not conceal, try as he might.

“So I understand,” Pansy replied. “There have been others, of course. That is what the rumour mill has been saying.”

“For me, yes. I understand she has remained faithful.”

“Perhaps,” Pansy replied. She studied Draco carefully to gauge his reaction. “Do you care?”

“If my wife fucks other people?” Draco’s laugh was brittle and devoid of any humour. “I would be a sorry sort of husband if I did not.”

“A _good_ husband would not spend his evenings in the company of expensive whores.” 

“You understand nothing.” Draco spat out the words and Pansy continued to watch as his face twisted with anger and pain.

“I understand why you left me, at last.” Pansy turned her gaze away from Draco because even now, he broke her heart. Instead she focused on one of the paintings on the wall where a ballerina stood poised in an eternal pirouette. “You believed I made you weak.”

“You did,” Draco replied, his voice smooth. Pansy could hear the tremble and imagined he was trying to keep his emotions carefully under control.

“No, I allowed you to be yourself. Your only cowardice was turning your back on the possibility of being the man we both know you are capable of being.” 

“A man who snivels and cries about the war?” Pansy turned to him and saw that Draco looked furious again, despite his attempts to keep his anger at bay. She watched as he pressed his forearm towards her, his skin covered by the blue cotton of his shirt, neatly pressed. “A man who is capable of taking a knife to his own skin due to memories of a past others have long since forgotten? I am not that man.”

“You were once.” Pansy spoke softly, her voice almost inaudible. “You were a man I could love – a man I did love.”

“Then you were a fool.” Draco snorted and dropped his arm, raking his hand through his hair. “I didn’t come here for this.”

“I know exactly what you came here for.” Pansy held her head high and met Draco’s gaze head on. “Do you deny it?”

“No.” Draco shrugged and looked to the door of the living room. Pansy wondered if he wanted to make his escape, as he had once before. That time, when she had let him go, Pansy had always believed he would come back. She had been wrong.

“At least you are honest.” Pansy moved closer to Draco and felt his arm slip around her waist as she buried her head in the crook of his neck. He had changed his cologne since she had last seen him and he smelt musky and unfamiliar to her now.

“I always am with you.” Draco chuckled low in his throat, his voice catching. “It’s why it could never work between us, Parkinson. You know me better than anyone ever should.”

“You broke my heart.” Pansy tilted her head back and met Draco’s eyes. “You bloody idiot. You hurt me more than you could ever imagine and now neither of us can be happy.”

“Then I should go?” Draco’s hand cupped her cheek and Pansy could feel his breath hot against her lips as he pulled her closer.

“No.” Pansy spoke against his lips and wrapped her arms around Draco’s neck as he kissed her, melting against his body as he lifted her in his arms, moving them to the sofa without once breaking the kiss. “I have a bedroom – we don’t have to behave like teenagers.”

“This will do for now.” Draco settled over Pansy and slid his hand over her hip. “Afterwards we can go to bed.”

“How long do you have?” Pansy felt Draco’s hand slip under her shirt and she arched into him as he kissed her neck.

“All night. I have an early morning Portkey back to London.”

“You could extend your trip?”

“Impossible,” Draco shook his head and unplucked the buttons on Pansy’s shirt and flicked his tongue over the shell of her ear before speaking in a heated murmur. “I didn’t think you would let me stay.”

“I shouldn’t.” Pansy gripped her hand into Draco’s hair as he began to kiss her neck exactly where she liked to be kissed in a way nobody else had managed since the last time she had seen Draco. 

“Then why did you?” Draco trailed his lips down Pansy’s throat and she gripped his hair more tightly, not responding to him.

Pansy would never let Draco know that loving him made her weak too.

_~Fin~_


End file.
